


Illuminate

by Aodhan



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Agender Character, Angst and Feels, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Jedi Critical, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aodhan/pseuds/Aodhan
Summary: After coming back from the Emperor's control the Jedi Council is no help at all to Shamira. But being able to spend time with someone she actually cares about might be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Voidstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidstars/gifts).



> Originally written for the prompt "I wish you would talk to me" on tumblr. Nallarae is LordPasta's character and uses they/them pronouns.

Shamira had spent almost the entirety of the past few days in her old quarters in the Jedi temple on Tython. She was sitting motionlessly up against the wall, watching a little piece of sky she could see through the window changing colour as the time went by. Her limbs felt stiff and numb by now, but she just couldn’t find it in her to move any more than she absolutely needed to.

 

The Masters had told her to rest. To meditate, to let the strength of the Light Side calm her mind, just as they always did.

But she couldn’t even bear to think of meditation, she was sure that it would only bring back more knowledge of the horrors she had committed in the past months, more fragmented memories than she knew how to deal with. She hadn’t even been able to touch her lightsaber because of it, afraid it would take her back to the dead she had left in her wake.

They had told her stay calm and meditate while the realization of what she had done tore at her mind. She felt it dragging her into the darkness and still she just didn’t know how to deal with any of it without panicking.

So she just sat there and stared at the sky. 

 

She was  _ broken _ .

 

Shamira knew it and couldn’t find it in her to want to heal if she was honest.

Being sent from war zone to war zone, from fight to fight and bloodshed to bloodshed was one thing. 

Being sent to defeat the Sith Emperor and seemingly succeeding, just to be turned into his puppet, torturing her friends,  _ murdering _ the people she should have been protecting - that was so much worse than anything she ever had thought she would have to live through. 

And yet the Council expected her to simply take a few days off, get some sleep and go back out there again. Because  _ the war is still going on _ and  _ the Order needs you _ .

Never mind that she couldn’t expect any of her friends to trust her ever again.   
Never mind that she wouldn’t be able to trust herself.

Or that she couldn’t even stop her own hands from shaking. She hated them for that.

 

Shamira thought she must have been crying at some point because her face felt wet and sticky. And it made her think of her mother, who - gruff and frankly intimidating as she could be, a soldier to the bone - would always hold her close when she felt sad as a child. Of her father, who would lovingly ruffle her hair when she had scraped her knees and who used to lift her up on his shoulders and carry her around until she laughed again. It reminded her of her brother, who was probably stuck in one of the many war zones out there himself, defending the Republic and stubbornly bringing everyone back home alive. She always wondered when she would see them again.

But she was so afraid of what she might feel in the Force that she didn’t allow herself to try to find her connection to them and the warmth their presence would offer.

 

And apparently this line of thought had her stuck so deep in her anger and self-pity that she blocked out things she would have normally have felt with ease, but now only just realized with a start. 

If things were they way the should be, she would have felt Nallarae’s presence as soon as they arrived planetside. Hell, if things were as they should be, she would have known exactly when they would be here and looked forward to it for days, meeting them at the spaceport.

Now, though, she only noticed them when they were a few feet away from her refuge.

 

Shamira swallowed hard when they opened the door without hesitation and stepped into the room. She couldn’t face them like this. 

Not with how  _ horrible  _ she had become, how  _ wrong _ .   
They didn’t say anything, but slowly came towards her and sat down on the floor next to her. Their face was hard to read as almost always, but all she could almost reluctantly feel through their Force bond was worry and kindness and a deep slow-burning anger that wasn’t directed at her. And somehow it felt like finally coming home.

 

In a helpless gesture she reached out to touch her hand to Nally’s, to feel their warmth and have something to hold on to and maybe making sure they wouldn’t just leave her again. They stayed like that for quite a while, in silence, and Shamira had never been so glad for the endless patience the Miraluka seemed to have with her.

 

Nallarae only began to speak after the sun had finally set for the day and every now and then stars were visible in the sky.

 

“I know we can say so many things through the Force...but I wish you would talk to me.”

Shamira slowly lifted their intertwined hands and pressed a small kiss to theirs before finally bringing herself to really look at her partner.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Her voice was thin and raw and cracked a little, but she almost managed to work a smile into it. And it was the truth. The faint moonlight from outside made Nallarae’s hair gleam like silver and the lone lamp that lit up the room made their soft skin look warm. The Masters would definitely have a lot of things to say about the both of them and how attachment led to the Dark side. But at that moment it felt like the Jedi next to her was all that was keeping her somewhere close to the light.

 

“That is besides the point, but thank you.” The Cathar audibly breathed out through her nose.

 

“What exactly is the point, then?” she asked, letting her head fall against the wall behind her, but still holding on to the hand in hers. She stared at the ceiling for a moment. “For the Council the point is to get me fighting again as soon as fucking possible, because they don’t give a swamp rat’s ass about anyone's actual well-being. For me, the point is, that I should probably be at least locked away so I can’t hurt anyone else because he  _ made _ me into a fucking monster!” she almost shouted the last words as she finally turned to fully face Nallarae. “ _ Tell _ me, please, what is the actual fucking point here? What’s the big picture? Because I really just don’t know anymore!”

 

This time at least she actually noticed that she was crying when Nally gently gripped her face and used their thumbs to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

“The point is, Mira, that you are alive. You’re here and you’re with me and just because the Emperor wanted to make you his monster, it doesn’t mean you are.”

 

To that, she wasn’t able to respond, busy trying to breathe through the sobs that wracked her now. So she just let her desperation bleed into their Force bond, her signature screaming rage and loneliness, cold and  _ please-please-please-just-hold-me _ across the small space between them. 

When Nallarae’s hands wandered to her shoulders to pull her into the warmth of their embrace the pain in her chest started to feel just a little like relief. She buried her face in their robes and clung to them as if to hide from the terrors in her memories, hoping the familiar scent of the other Jedi would shelter her for a while.

 

When they pressed a soft kiss to her temple, her breath became just a little less ragged, less painful. And when they rocked her slightly in the embrace and gently nudged Miras mind towards sleep through the Force, the hopelessness in her heart became a little less devastating in the knowledge that there was at least one person who would never abandon her.


End file.
